


Song of the Stars

by child_of_the_Sea



Series: Flight of Dragons [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/child_of_the_Sea/pseuds/child_of_the_Sea
Summary: “Will you promise?”“On my honor as the prince of Greenwood, I will come back to you.”What was promised.What really happened.





	1. Wandering

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic. If there's anything at all, you think should be changed, added, or deleted, please say so in the comments! Of course, overall opinion is nice too.  
> If this seems crude, I'm very sorry.

Gentle footsteps were the only sound as Tauriel pondered what she’d overheard. Legolas was handsome, any of her former colleagues could agree to that, but attracted to her? It had to be a rumor, and nothing more. He couldn’t really have feelings for her that way, not after what happened. What would his father say?

Noticing a tree with a branch nearly two feet out of reach, she prepared to leap for it, but a soft footstep behind her stilled all movement. “Tauriel, may I speak to you?” The voice’s tone betrayed who it was.

Joining him in the elven tongue, she replied, “My lord.”

Legolas sighed. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time. Would you allow me to court you?” She remembered their childhood together. Legolas had asked her the same question before, when he was around nine hundred years of age, before his mother was killed. Life had been so wonderful then, and so different, before Ayana had died, before Thranduil turned his back on everyone he loved, before her world had come crashing down around her. Even through all of that, Legolas had never made a promise to her that he had not kept.

Considering this, she realized he would not ask unless he meant it. Turning to face him, she replied, “Yes.”

 

 

Tauriel swung through the trees with feline grace, shooting spiders out of the branches as she did. Fighting while trying to keep her presence a secret was hard. But as long as she stayed far enough away from the main group, no one noticed.

Running along a branch above the Sylvan Elves, she spotted Legolas’s pale hair among the dark in the forest. He was standing on a branch directly below her. She ran back to the trunk and slid down to the branch he was on. Gazing around her to see if anyone was watching, she stepped up behind Legolas and tapped him on the shoulder. He started and his bow hand tensed, the other reaching back for an arrow.

“Hello,” she whispered in his ear.

He relaxed, smiling, and turned to face her. “What brings you here?” he teased.

“You know the answer.” She smiled back at him.

“There’s no one watching.”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll see you tonight, starlight.”

“You know how I like watching the stars with you, especially since I was, well, you know.” Tauriel sighed. “I will see you then. But I had best go before someone sees something they should not.”

Legolas nodded. Then he raised his bow and fired an arrow over her shoulder. She turned. A dead spider fell out of the tree behind her. “Thanks.”

He gave a curt nod, then swung away.

 

 

Tauriel fiddled with the clasp of her cloak. Trying to be quiet, she finally shut it and pulled the hood up over her head. Turning in front of the mirror, she made sure it would cover all her hair. She pushed the hood back down again. Her ‘red as fire’ hair spilled down her back.

She gently took a delicate gold clip from her pocket. Legolas had given it to her when they were children. It was set with emeralds and pearls and engraved with his family’s seal. She remembered what he’d said about it. _“I think you are pretty and deserve something as lovely as you.”_ Tauriel smiled at the memory and bound her hair up on her head with the clip and pulled the hood of her cloak back up over her head. _How I wish I did not have to keep my presence here a secret. she thought. It seems like millennia have passed since my childhood here. So happy._

Footsteps sounded outside. Tauriel pulled herself out the open window, pulling it shut with a clack. She grabbed the branch and swung down so she was hanging by one hand. There, hanging onto the branch, she listened.

A voice, whom she recognized as one of the Sylvan elves, one who had been rather mean to her in the past, said, “There was someone here, my lord. I saw them. Also, there have been many other strange occurrences. Arrows disappearing from the armory in the dead of night. Food going missing with no explanation. Spiders dropping dead where there was none to kill them.”

“I know.” Thranduil’s voice.

 _The famed King of Greenwood._  she thought in a sarcastic manner, not caring it would be counted as treason.

“But yet you have done nothing, my lord.”

“I myself have often noticed my son disappearing on clear nights, and seeming, rather, detached and tired the next day. But no, I have not done nothing as you say. I have been waiting and watching for them to make a mistake. And my patience was rewarded.”

Tauriel shivered. How she dreaded hearing he knew. She would have to tell Legolas to be more careful.

“There are also repeated sightings of a strange figure, hooded and cloaked. Someone who has great skill in trees and with weapons as well, specifically a bow. One of the elves saw the prince and whomever it is together, giving us reason to believe it is a woman. An elf woman.”

Tauriel pulled herself up farther so her head was level with the branch. She saw Thranduil walk to the window and gaze out into the dark forest. “I know who it is. Tauriel is here, despite her banishment. When you next see her, bring her to me, if you can. But whatever you do, try not to hurt her. I want her alive.”

“Yes, my lord.”

At this, Tauriel dropped several dozen feet to the ground and ran through the forest. She had to find Legolas, fast.

Running faster then she ever had, she almost missed the tree where he was waiting. “Tauriel!”

“Legolas!” She stopped herself and embraced him. “You look wonderful.”

“You look flustered. What happened?” he asked, concerned.

She looked away. “I’ll tell you once we’re up.” He leapt up onto a branch and extended a hand to her. She grasped it and pulled herself up.

High above the forest, Tauriel sat on a branch, gazing at the stars that stretched from horizon to horizon. “So,” Legolas asked, seated next to her, “what happened?”

She sighed. “Your father knows I am here,” she said simply. “He notices when you leave, and one of the elves saw us together. He is hunting me for that.”

He scooted closer to her on the branch. “There is no need for worry, Tauriel. I have a plan to mend things with my father. But you must leave Greenwood for it to work.”

“Leave? I cannot leave!” Tauriel looked at him in horror. “I could not bear being away from you. And where would I go?”

Tears welled in Legolas’s eyes. “I could not either. But if it works, we could be together. Forever.”

Tauriel pressed close to him and nodded. “What is your plan?”

“To get myself banished. And do not worry about where you will go. I have a place for you. I will take you there tonight. You will not see me for several nights, but I will be back.”

“Will you promise?”

“On my honor as the prince of Greenwood, I will come back to you.” The rest of the night passed in silence between them, each enjoying the other’s company.

Near the sunrise, when the stars began to fade in the morning light, Legolas stood and stretched. “Come. I will take you to where I promised. Do not leave it, and you will be safe.”

Tauriel nodded. Her heart still ached at the thought of leaving him. He leapt down to a branch a few feet below and extended a hand to her. She took his hand and followed. She followed him deep into the forest to a small clearing, several leagues south of the halls. “Are we here?” she asked. “Yes.”

He gestured at a small cottage near the edge of the clearing, surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, with the gate open. “What do you think?” Tauriel gasped, tears coming to her eyes. It was beautiful. “It-it’s wonderful, Legolas.”

He hooked his arm around hers and lead her across the clearing and up the steps of the porch. “As long as you stay here, my father’s men won’t find you. But I will.”

“You had better,” Tauriel said, turning to face him and tucking her head against his chest. “I have only one thing to ask. Will you stay here for just a little longer? Please?”

“No, I cannot. But I will be back in five days’ time. You must only wait that long. It will be worth it all.” “Just five more days. I can wait that long. After all, I waited most of my life for this, so what is five days when I have waited five centuries?” she said.

It was true. When they were young, she and Legolas had been friends. Each the only friend of the other, if truth be told. She’d seen the way he used to look at her, even when she was only six and he eleven. But when his mother, Ayana, had died, they had been separated by his father, simply because she was a Sylvan elf and he Sindarin, which to her meant almost nothing. She was not like the other Sylvan Elves. She was different, somehow.

“Here.” Legolas’s voice startled her out of her reverie. He drew one of his arrows from his quiver and handed it to her. “Keep it, as a reminder. I will come back.”

“Thank you.” Tauriel said, tears coming to her eyes again. “Just, come back to me. There is nothing I want more. And, stay safe.”

“I will.” Legolas gently hugged her and then strode away into the forest, bow in hand. Tauriel gazed after him into the early morning light, tears coursing down her cheeks.

When he was out of sight in the forest, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This was her home now. She turned around and opened the door. There was a row of hooks to her left, with some room in front of it for shoes, and a half-wall that opened into a cheery, and cluttered, kitchen. In front of her, a hall ran the length of the house. Several doors, some of them ajar, lined the corridor.

Another room opened up to her left. It held a neat fireplace, the only neat thing in sight, and a yellow loveseat. There was a window above the loveseat with white curtains. Tauriel smiled. She liked white curtains. Gently setting things out of her way, she walked to the window and drew the curtains back. The view of a plowed garden plot and a few climbing trees met her. Tauriel tied the curtains back and opened the window. She laughed as the breeze tousled her hair.

Turning away from the window, Tauriel walked back through the room and went down the hallway. Opening the first door she came to, she found a pantry. She opened the tall narrow window on the far end. The second and third yielded empty rooms that Legolas had evidently not finished, but she opened the windows. The fourth disclosed a stairway, which she made a mental note to explore someday.

The fifth door she tried opened to reveal a neat bedroom. There was a bed with pale yellow bedding in the far corner with a cedar headboard carved to resemble intertwined vines. A hand carved armoire with six drawers stood opposite it. Stepping into the center of the room, she saw a stack of finished and some unfinished arrows on top of a chest with hooks above. A backup bow and quiver hung from them. A folded note lay on the pillow of the bed. Tauriel sat gently on the edge of the bed and picked it up. Her name was written on the front in Legolas’s delicate, flowing handwriting. She opened it.

My dear Tauriel,

I set this room up for you, but have not had the time to finish the entire house. I hope you enjoy it. There are few elves who come this way, so you will be quite safe. I apologize for the mess. There was not time to clean it before it was needed. But I know you are very capable of cleaning it to your satisfaction.

The arrows, quiver and bow in the corner are for you. But if you prefer the one you made, I understand. If you run out of arrows, there are some arrowheads, shafts and fletching in the chest so you can make more.

I hope you like the room at the end of the hall. I put much of my time into it.

Yours always, Legolas

Tauriel smiled and tucked the letter into her pocket. How sweet of him. She rose and left the room. But the last two sentences piqued her curiosity. What was he talking about?

The last door confronted her at the end of the hall. She unlatched it and pushed it open. A large room opened up in front of her. The walls were a deep green, the shade of the forest in summer. A four poster bed with lace curtains was against the far wall. Two tall windows with cream colored curtains were on either side of it. A delicate mirror with a wrought silver frame hung on the lefthand wall with a silver vanity and stool beneath it. A desk stood opposite the vanity, with a stack of paper and a quill on top of it.

Then she saw the ceiling. It was made entirely of birchwood and maple planks, set so close to one another they appeared to be one solid piece. The whole ceiling was covered in carvings of intertwined vines and trees carved out of the solid wood. It was all hand carved. Every single leaf and tendril. Legolas had to have fitted those planks, one by one, into their place and then carved the whole thing. So this was what he had been talking about. This was the crowning glory of the house he’d built by himself. “Birch is so rare here.” Tauriel whispered to herself. “He must have gone so far to find it. And the maple wood, too.”

Finally pulling herself away, Tauriel went back to her room. She then saw a piece of pale yellow fabric hanging out of the second drawer from the top of the armoire. She opened the drawer and pulled out a pale yellow, a bit darker shade than the walls, ankle-length dress. It had an empire waist and a fluffy, modest neckline. The fabric was soft to her fingers. Tauriel stripped off her tunic and leggings and tried it on. She smiled and twirled, then laughed. Legolas thought of everything. Noticing a mirror on the back of her door, she gazed at her reflection and twirled again. _My hair doesn’t look quite right._ she thought.

Heading back to the larger bedroom, she found two gold hairpins on top of the vanity. Then she looked closer. The hairpins were shaped like daggers, but would function as hairpins. How clever. A weapon, hidden in her fire-red locks. She set one down and twisted her hair up on her head. Twirling her new dagger hairpins round her hands, Tauriel stuck them smartly in her hair and checked her reflection. Perfect.

A knock sounded from the front of the house. Worried, Tauriel snuck as quietly as she could to the door. She opened the door carefully, then stopped. She could not believe who stood in front of her.

Kíli.


	2. There...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I took so long to update! Trying for every monday, so once a week. Please drop those comments and kudos!  
> Thx!

Legolas balanced on a tree branch, watching a pack of Wargs with Orc riders beneath him.

_ About twenty of them.  _ he calculated. One of the Wargs sniffed the tree, then growled. They’d caught his scent. He climbed higher, stealthy as always. But before he was out of sight, an Orc looked up straight at him. It made a strange guttural sound in its throat and pointed its black scimitar at him.

Abandoning all attempts at secrecy, Legolas ran and  leapt to another tree where he had a clear shot and raised his bow. Reaching back for an arrow, he nocked it and fired. The Orcs nearest him fell, both pierced with the same shaft. He ducked to avoid the answering arrows. He reached back for another arrow, then realized that he had used all the ones he’d brought with him on spiders. “I really need to remember to make more.” he said to himself. He slung his bow across his back and drew his daggers. He leapt the twenty feet down to the forest floor and sliced the throats of two more Orcs in front of him. 

The Sylvan Elves that he was head of in Tauriel’s absence sprang out of the trees and added their arrows to the fray.  _ Five more left. _ he thought, swinging his daggers around above his head in unison. A showy move, and useless for defense, but fun. Two of the remaining Orcs fell with arrows through their heads. The last three had shields full of elvish arrows, and were advancing toward Legolas. One was cloaked and mounted on a Warg, the other two on foot. The cloaked one stopped its mount about ten paces in front of Legolas, pointing one finger at him. The two on either side of it advanced.

Drawing their swords, the Orcs charged. Legolas ducked under one blow and met the other with the flat of his left dagger, surprised at the speed and strength of his opponents’ blows. Turning to face them, he realized he was possibly in a very bad position. If the cloaked Orc were to attack and Legolas turn to face him, the other two would most likely try to kill him. And if he faced the two in front of him, the last Orc could then do the same.

Trying to avoid that, Legolas turned and backed slowly toward the bushes so he could see all his opponents. It was no use. They were already creeping out of his line of sight, trying to force him to fight one or the other. He sheathed his daggers and reached up slowly for a branch within reach. He found one, and pulled himself out of sight. Safe.

The Orcs poked around in the bushes, trying to find him. Without success, they left. Legolas grinned. It was fun to outsmart them. “You can try to catch me later.” he whispered in their direction, a superior smile on his face.  _ But why didn’t the other elves just kill them?  _ he wondered. Then he shrugged. They might not have noticed.

“Or maybe, we can catch you now.” An Orcish hand shoved him hard from behind out of the tree. Legolas twisted in the air, trying not to land on his head, and landed on his back. He tried to draw his daggers again to defend himself, but a black blade was already at his throat. Several others with longbows had arrows trained on his head. Legolas lay back in surrender. He knew he was beaten.

The swordsman Orc, still cloaked, placed his foot on Legolas’s chest, causing him to wince because of the pressure. It gave a harsh growl and two of its underlings lowered their weapons and left. They returned with rope and bound his wrists. The ropes were so tight he couldn’t feel his hands. Then the Orc removed his foot and Legolas relaxed, able to breath again. The leader grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and yanked him to his feet. “You’re comin’ with us.” Legolas glared at him and fought, but a second Orc grabbed his other shoulder and shoved him to his knees.

“Stop that, or I kill you.” the first growled.

“You would not dare.” Legolas answered. “You would never kill me.”

“Oh, yes I would, elf. Now get up!” The Orcs pulled Legolas to his feet again and forced him overtop of a Warg, but he managed to turn his head to the side to avoid his face being shoved into Warg fur. He hated the smell.

The leader Orc mounted the beast behind him and roared a command to its underlings.  _ Where did all these Orcs come from?!?  _ he wondered, stunned that the other elves had missed this many Orcs. And that they’d left so early, without waiting for him, as courtesy and respect for his rank required. Not that he was that prideful, but it was common courtesy in Greenwood! Especially for a prince!

The  Wargs started moving farther into the forest, south, Legolas noted from the position of the sparse sunlight shining through the tree canopy. Could they be taking him to Dol Guldur?

Impossible. They’d just defeated the Orc armies in the Battle for the Mountain. A few months was in no way time enough for an utterly defeated army to recover enough strength for attack, especially on the Greenwood Elves. His father would simply wipe the awful, rotten existence of Orcs off the face of Middle-Earth. Legolas knew Tauriel would be angry for him speaking like that. She might even slap him. But he  _ hated _ Orcs. Especially ones who would dare threaten Tauriel, like that infernal Bolg.

By the time they reached wherever it was they were taking him, the forest had grown dark, too dark for his comfort. The trees were few and had sparse leaves, if any, and an unmistakable shroud of gray hung over everything. Legolas didn’t know if this in fact was the Orc stronghold, but it was likely. The only time he’d ever been to the Abandoned Fortress was in his youth, on one of Tauriel’s ‘escapades’. She still had a burn scar on her hand from that one. 

An Orc emerged from the gloom that he could barely see. White and tall, he bore a scar on his chest from some elvish weapon, as well as several others that looked to be from the claws of some beast. An wrought-iron claw protruded from the stump of his right arm.  _ Impossible. _ Legolas thought.  _ He died! I saw him! How could it be possible?  _  Yet it was. Azog the Defiler.

The Orc leader, still cloaked, dismounted and walked to stand in front of Azog, as if to give a report. Tauriel had taught him the Black Speech. Now he could put her lessons to use.

“Who did you bring?” Azog asked the leader of the Orc pack, whom Legolas now recognized as his sworn, and dead, enemy, Bolg. The scars from Legolas’s elven daggers were evident.

“The elven prince. We can gain much in trade for letting him live. He also has some information that our master desires.”

A pause. “Get him up.” Two other Orcs grabbed his arms and yanked him up. They dragged him a few paces and then shoved him to his knees in front of Azog. Legolas gazed up at the albino Orc with piercing, hate-filled eyes. Azog chuckled. Then he turned and waved for them to follow. “Bring him.”

The Orcs jerked Legolas to his feet and forced him to walk alongside them into Dol Guldur. They seemed to derive amusement from deliberately tripping him and causing him to twist his ankle against hidden rocks several times. Azog apparently was amused by this as well and roared in laughter at the guards. They continued doing it, as well as managing to steer Legolas into every hole and bump. He would get them for this.  _ And how am I going to keep my promise to Tauriel now?  _ he wondered. _ She’s going to worry, my father as well. I have to get out of here. _ He tried to fight, but they only tightened their grip on his arms. He fought them anyhow.

It turned out to be useless. Azog noticed his fighting and stopped. He turned and stared at Legolas. Then the Orc raised his fist and slammed it into his jaw. Legolas recoiled from the stinging pain. “ _ Don’t _ try to escape.” Azog growled, his tongue mangling the common language almost beyond recognition. “Or you’ll end up with worse then that.” He turned and started walking again.

Legolas managed to catch a glimpse of himself in a puddle from a recent storm, and saw a black and yellow bruise spreading across his cheek. Worse then that? Just great.

They dragged him deep into the fortress, allowing him to see how much it had changed from his childhood. Then, it had been completely and utterly abandoned. Now, Orcs were swarming around every corner. The Orcs hauled him deep underground to what Legolas recognized as Orc dungeons. He’d seen them before, in the Battle of Gundabad. That was the only real battle besides the Battle for the Mountain that he had ever fought in.

Then he saw there were no other Orcs here. Making one last attempt at freedom, Legolas shoved the Orcs against the walls of the corridor. He tried to grab a weapon, but then he remembered. His hands were tied behind his back. Wonderful.

It turned out Azog had heard them fighting and sent Bolg down to investigate. The one-eyed Orc snatched Legolas by the back of his tunic and dragged him down the corridor to the last cell. Bolg unlocked the door with an iron key and swung it open. He threw Legolas against the far wall and shut the door again. “Try and get out of there, elf!” Bolg laughed and strode away.

Legolas shoved himself up. His head throbbed, as did his wrist. He fell back onto one elbow. He would kill them for this. He would kill them, and then make sure they stayed dead.


	3. An Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third installment. Please, please, please, comments and kudos!

Tauriel stepped back from the doorway as if it had burned her. What was Kíli doing there? He had died in the Battle for the Mountain! How could he be alive? She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.  _ Best let him in and have him explain himself.  _ she thought.  _ Get it over and done. _

“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Looking for you.” he answered. “I thought you were dead.”

“And I you. How did you survive? I know you died!” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I remember saving you, Bolg stabbing me, and then the next thing I was in a healer’s hut with a throbbing chest. I don’t remember anything else, save for the healer woman told me I’d find you here.”

Tauriel crossed her arms, still shaken. “But why did you come searching for me, Kíli?”

He sighed. “Could we sit down and talk about it?”

“No. I want the answer now.”

“Very well.” Kíli sighed again. “I can’t go back to the Lonely Mountain, because they think I’m dead. And I want to be with you.” He took a deep breath. “Whenever we were talking, I felt like I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t tell anyone else. I felt something I’d never felt before. You were, and are, someone special to me.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

“You make me feel alive. Like there was nothing I couldn’t battle and win. Like nothing stood in my way. It’s what kept me going when I was trapped in the Mountain. I couldn’t see a way out. But I could think of you, and know that there was.” he answered.

Tauriel shook her head slowly. She didn’t know what in all Middle-earth she was going to do. Kíli was right, he couldn’t go to the Lonely Mountain. But he also couldn’t stay. When Legolas came back, he would act like a Balrog in a dry forest if he found Kíli there. It would be best for all if he left. “Kíli, is there somewhere else you can stay? It’s not safe for you here either.” she asked.

“Oh, I think it is. You’re a terrible liar, Tauriel. You do know that, right?” he answered and tried to push past her.

She grabbed him by the arm and spun him back out in front of her. “I’m  _ not _ lying. If Legolas finds you here, he will kill you."

Kíli frowned. “What do you mean? What business has he here?”

“Kíli.” she said sharply, giving him the same look she gave Legolas when she wanted him to shut his mouth.

He crossed his arms and glared at her. “Fine. But can I at least stay tonight?”

“Very well.” Tauriel knew she was beaten. She stepped back to let him in and shut the door behind him. “But, whatever you do, do  _ not _ force me to make you leave. That means  _ no _ fooling around what so ever. Am I clear?”

Kíli nodded.

  
  
  
  


Legolas shoved himself up to sitting on the cold stone. He hadn’t had much of a night’s sleep, but who could in this place? But at least they’d cut the ropes. He rubbed his wrists, trying to get the blood flowing. His hands were still numb, but it helped a little.

Finally he gave up. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. It was cold in here. “It seems like every breath of wind blows cold air down here.” he said quietly to himself. Suddenly, he felt like a child again, waiting for his mother to come, sit him on her lap and read to him.  _ A mother who will never come back. _ he thought. His mother, Ayana, had been lost in the Battle of Gundabad.

But where was that draft coming from? It couldn’t have come down the corridor. He remembered several solid iron doors that would not admit any breeze whatsoever. He looked down the other way. There were several cracks in the wall, seeming to form…  _ A door!  _ he thought. It had to be of dwarven make, otherwise the Orcs would have found it long ago. It stood ajar just slightly, just enough to admit a gentle wind. He reached out with his mind to Tauriel.

_ I think I found something you should see.  _ he thought.

_ Let me look through your eyes.  _ she answered. She reached closer to him with her mind.  _ Is that a door? And where are you? _

_ Yes! And since it is admitting a draft, I believe it leads outside the fortress.  _ he said.

She was silent of a while.  _ But it could also lead to a courtyard inside this fortress. _

_ Look closer.  _ Legolas said.  _ It is of dwarvish make. If this is what I think it is- _

_ Something like this?  _ Tauriel sent him an image of a hidden door, open halfway.  _ Kíli and the other dwarves followed this path into the Lonely Mountain. _

He sighed.  _ Would you mind telling me how you know of this secret way? _

_ Gandalf. _

Legolas gave a mental sigh. Seriously? _ Anything else I should know? _

_ No. For the last time, where are you!?!  _ she answered.

Legolas shook his head. She knew more then he did, and already had a plan, most likely.

_ I heard that. _

Legolas closed off his mind from Tauriel so he could think without her comments.

The iron door to his cell swung open on creaking hinges. The noise hurt his ears after the long silence. A piece of stale bread was thrown at him and the door shut again. Legolas ignored it.

Crawling up onto the stone ledge, he craned his neck to look out the small barred window. The cloud cover still dominated the sky. But one break in the gray showed a strip of blue. A bright, pure blue. A blue that seemed like hope. He smiled. He’d get out someday. This place would not, could not, get him down. He would fight in what ways he could.

He would make Tauriel proud of him.

  
  
  
  
  


Tauriel put her hands on her hips and stared at the mess. How so like Legolas to forget this kind of thing. The bedrooms were clean, she’d taken care of that the night before, but the rest of the house was in disarray.  She shrugged, and took the broom out of the corner. Best start cleaning while there was daylight. She’d start with the kitchen, after she found out where Kíli was.

She walked to the room she’d let Kíli sleep in the night before and knocked on the door. He didn’t answer, so she opened the door. Kíli lay on his bed, still asleep. Tauriel went to the window and open the thicker curtains, letting the sunlight pour in. She shook his shoulder.

“Come on, Kíli, get up.” she said softly. He refused to stir. “Kíli!” she said in a sharper tone.

He groaned. “Leave me alone.”

Tauriel sighed and left.

Setting the dishes out of her way, Tauriel swiftly went over the oak countertops with a damp cloth until they shone. Next she tackled the pile of dishes. She found washing them to be a pleasure, scrubbing with soapsuds tickling her arms. No one would have ever thought she could do this kind of work, but living on her own for around six or seven months, she hadn’t kept count, had gifted her with many of those skills. 

“Legolas built this with his own hands. I can at least greet him with it clean.” Tauriel said to herself, putting the dishes in stacks in the proper cupboard. She swept the floor until there was no more dust on it to be swept. Then out the back door went the dust and the kitchen was spotless.

“I didn’t think elves could do this kind of work.” Kíli said behind her.

Tauriel answered, “Keep your comments to yourself, Kíli.”

He huffed. “Why?”

She ignored him.

The front room wasn’t very hard either. Books went on shelves, paintings on walls, and the poker by the fireplace. Looking above the mantle, she saw two nails poking out.  _ We’ll have pictures hanging there someday. But for now, something else can go there.  _ Tauriel ran to her room and retrieved the arrow Legolas had given her. She balanced it on the two nails and stepped back to look at it. Perfect.

“Well? Is there anything I can do?”

Looking outside, she saw that it wasn’t yet noon. “I could look around at what is up the stairs.” Tauriel said to herself. She walked down the hall to the open door. She trotted up the stairs, gripping the railing.

There was no door when she reached the top of the stairs. Looking both ways down the hall, she saw more doors and an open room. The open room was lined with white shelves, that were carved at the ends. Two arched windows let in the morning sunlight.

She walked to the room across the hall and opened the door. It had light brown walls and a large window on the far wall. It was mostly empty, but one thing snatched her attention. There was a white cupboard-like thing in the righthand wall with delicately wrought handles. She pulled it, expecting a door to swing out. It did, only it came down instead of to the side, almost on her head. Tauriel scooted out of the way. A metal bar swung out and landed on her ankle. She yelped and lifted it as best she could, pulling her foot out from under it. She stood, keeping her injured ankle off the ground. It was a bed. In the wall.  _ How clever.  _ she thought. Limping some, she pulled down the other, this time being more careful. Apparently, the bed folded up into the wall and could be pulled down when needed. A handy space saving trick.

Tauriel folded the metal bar up and pushed the bed back into the wall. It fit neatly into the cutout. She folded up the other bed and left the room.

But something nagged at the back of her mind. When she’d last looked around the larger bedroom, there had been a small, light blue, half door with curtains. What did that lead to? She gave in to her curiosity and went back to the bedroom. There it was, in the corner opposite the desk. Walking over to it rather apprehensively, Tauriel tied back the curtains and unlatched the half door. Stepping past it, she saw a nursery.

The walls were pale green and blue, dotted with flowers of pink and lavender. There was a cradle by the far wall and a yellow window seat in the lefthand wall. Another door was opposite the window. Tauriel walked to the window and sat on the window seat. Now she knew what Legolas meant by ‘together forever’, but she wasn’t surprised. Before the Battle of Gundabad, Thranduil had allowed, and even encouraged, Legolas to court her, but he’d always been too shy to ask for her hand. So apparently he’d decided to do it in an indirect manner. _ No wonder he left so quickly. _ she thought.  _ He didn’t want to have to ask himself.  _ Tauriel rose and left the nursery. He would ask when he returned. 

What was she going to say?

  
  
  
  


The door swung open to reveal Azog, standing with a whip in his hand. “Tie his hands.” He yelled in the Black Speech. Two squat goblin-orcs ran out from behind him, shoved Legolas off the ledge, and tied his hands just as tightly, if not more, then before. They dragged him out, barely giving him time to get to his feet. They pulled him along the corridor and through a maze of others, Azog striking him across his back and neck with the whip whenever he thought Legolas was going too slow or there were other Orcs watching. But it was something he could not help. The constant twisting his ankle against rocks the day before had probably injured it.

A precipice dropped off right at Azog’s feet by the time he signaled them to stop. Were they going to drop him off the edge, or something to that extent? Probably. Orcs killed their prisoners unless given good reason not to, and then they tended to give them a hard time of it.

The Orcs shoved Legolas to his knees and waited. Long minutes ticked by.

Then a sinister, snake-like voice hissed to both his mind and ear, reciting a poem Legolas knew by heart:

**_Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_ **

**_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_ **

**_Nine for mortal Men doomed to die._ **

**_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne,_ **

**_In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie_ **

**_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them._ **

**_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._ **

**_In the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie._ **

 

**_“You know where the Three are, and you will tell me.”_ **

Legolas pressed his lips together in answer. He’d learned that in debates like this, it was best to keep silent.

“Wrong answer.” Azog growled and laid the whip across his neck again.

_“Then we will simply have to force it from you.”_ A ravenous, black mind began clawing at his own, seeking to take any and all information about the Eldar from him. Legolas fought back to the best of his ability, but the defense of his mind against telepathic attacks was not something he’d been taught. Holding off the other mind, he flung his mind out in search of Tauriel’s. She instantly responded. _What is wrong now?_

_ Orcs. They caught me yesterday eve. Something is attacking my mind and I can’t hold it off. And, for some obscure reason, Azog is alive! _

_ Here. And, I already figured that out. _ Tauriel made a rush attack on his consciousness, surrounding his mind with her own and deflecting the black mind with expertly aimed jabs.

_ Where are you and what do they want from you?  _ she asked, still fending off the darkness.

_ The location of the Elven Rings and anything I know of my father’s plans. But I’m not going to tell them. I’m in Dol Guldur. _

_ You had better not. _

**_“Since you will not speak, elf, I must resort to other, less kind, methods.”_ **

Legolas found he must have passed out, for he did not remember the remainder of his torture. When he awoke in his cell, he had many more wounds then he remembered. There were scores from the whip on his back and neck. He could feel tender bruises on his temples. He remembered that Tauriel had told him it was from the strain on his mind.

As feeling returned to his limbs, his lower legs began to throb with a terrible pain. Gasping for breath, he reached down and pulled up the hem of his leggings. Chunks of the flesh had been ripped off. Legolas closed his eyes. He knew what they had done to him.

The Orc did not wait even an hour before returning and dragging him to the pinnacle again. It was the same routine of pain and torment.

By the time Azog finally let up and returned Legolas to his cell for the second time that day, his back, neck and face were covered in bloody welts and bruises. He tore a strip off the bottom hem of his tunic and dabbed at some of his more serious wounds. He hated this place. He huddled on the stone ledge, staring out the barred window and tried not to let his wounded back touch the wall.

About midnight, Legolas was still awake. Suddenly, tapping on the bars of the window attracted his attention. He looked up. A cloaked stranger stood there, holding a shuttered lantern that emitted barely enough light for Legolas to make out the stranger’s sharp and delicate features. “Tauriel?” he whispered, hoping.

“What a predicament you got yourself into.” she whispered back. “Here, take these.” She reached through the bars and handed him a few strips of cloth and a jar of healing salve. “You look like you need them.”

“How can you tell?” Legolas asked, rubbing the salve on his neck. The pain dulled somewhat. “There’s barely enough light to see anything.”

“I’ve been living in the forest, alone, with only the moonlight to guide me. My eyes have become more sensitive to light then yours, so this is plenty of light for me to see by.” Then she stood. ‘’I’ll be back tomorrow. Keep me updated on anything that happens.” Then she ran off into the pitch black.

Legolas rubbed the salve on the rest of his wounds and bound some of them as best he could. Then he remembered the strip of sky he’d seen that morning. Hope.

  
  
  
  


Tauriel ran as fast as she could, trying to calm her nerves. How? How had Legolas been captured? Did Thranduil know his son was in danger? If he did, why wouldn’t he rescue him? The Elven Halls had plenty of soldiers to get him out.

Remembering what Legolas had told her that morning, Tauriel stopped and ran back to Dol Guldur to look for something that could be a trap-door of sorts. The ground about seven and a half paces to her right did not look natural. She moved as slowly as she could to not attract attention. Kneeling by it, she saw the indeed, it was not natural. Searching under the loam, her fingers found a keyhole. Tauriel smiled. She knew how to pick locks.  She grasped one of her daggers and worked it around in the lock. She felt a slight vibration, and the door opened some.

“Not so well defended, are you?” she hissed in triumph.

A horn sounded from within the walls. Wondering what it was, Tauriel crept closer. The Orcs on the section of wall nearest her left and were replaced by new sentries.  _ So the horn signals watch change. _ she thought.  _ Best note that. _

But the questions were still circling in her head when she reached the house again. Dragging herself up the steps of the porch, she managed to finally calm herself down. She could get him out herself or convince Thranduil to help. Neither would be easy, but then, what of worth was? All the same, she would rather convince Thranduil to help her then face Azog and the forces he’d amassed alone. But the question of how to do it?

These visits continued for several days, each time Legolas looking a little paler then before. Late at night, two weeks after the attack, Tauriel sat up trying to formulate a plan. She went over her previous thoughts and decided to try both.

_ Not without sleep first. _ Legolas gently said, apparently having read her thoughts.  _ It would be correct to assume that Azog’s forces are beyond your ability. They could overwhelm you in a few seconds with their sheer numbers. _

_ Be quiet.  _ Tauriel replied, closing off her mind. But, all the same, she walked as straight as she could to her room and collapsed onto the bed.

She did not wake until the sun was high above Greenwood. She rolled out of bed and stood. Tauriel pushed back the curtains and saw that was nearly noon. Oh, well. She’d just get a late start.

Dressing quickly, she stopped to grab an apple from the kitchen. Then she sat down in the front room and made a mental list. She needed to talk with Thranduil, who also wanted to take her prisoner. She needed to clear everything out of her last camp and move it here, without leaving a trail of any kind. A false trail leading away would be beneficial. Maybe even leading to Dol Guldur, so they could find Legolas. But it would be hard to lead them there without attracting the attention of the hundred or so Orcs on watch duty. And lastly, she needed to get more supplies to Legolas.

Tauriel finished her apple and left the house. Not bothering to use the gate, she vaulted over the fence. She ran northeast for hours, turning full north after the mountains no longer obscured her view of the northern sky. After two hours, a thin trail of smoke rose from her campsite. Oh, twisted tree. The Sylvan Elves had found it.

She leapt into a tree and began to cross the land that way. They couldn’t find her trail if she did not leave one. Though it was very hard work to climb trees in a long skirt, it would be hard for them to recognize her. Halting in one of the trees above her camp, she saw two elves picking though her camp.

“She was here recently,” one said. “And the tracks lead here but not away. She must still be here.” Tauriel recognized his voice. He was a younger elf, and the one who had reported her to the king.

“Yet she is not. The fire, these tracks, they are not fresh. She has not been here for days, two at least.”

Tauriel breathed a sigh of relief. Her traveling in trees was paying off. She still needed to gather her things and leave. But the older elf was one who had always bullied her in the past, when she was a child. He would give the appearance of leadership whenever Thranduil was within earshot, but bully her the minute the king turned his back.

“We should bring the king here. Show him what we found.”

“But what of the prince?” the younger elf questioned. “We were tasked with finding him as well.”

“You know him. Always off who knows where. He’s perfectly fine.” the elder answered.

“But for  _ two weeks _ ?”

Tauriel pursed her lips in anger. Perfectly fine, indeed! Legolas was covered in bruises and whip marks. She drew out her new bow and one of the arrows. She nocked the arrow and aimed, pleased at how well it balanced. She fired, and the arrows soared several score feet before striking a tree. Both elves below her whipped around to face the sound.

“There!” The older elf pointed and both left in the direction of the sound. Tauriel smiled and dropped to the ground as soon as they were out of sight. She gathered her things quickly, thankful for her leather shoes that made little trackable print. 

When her food, healing supplies, and other necessary items were stowed away where she could fetch them later, Tauriel made a cut on her arm with one of her daggers, and ran south, stopping every so often so the blood pooled on the ground. Following a trail left by Orcs the night before, she reached a place where they had camped. She dripped blood near where one of them had stood so it would look like she’d been captured. Irregular drops led to where a Warg had stood, with a small pool on one side and a few small drops on the other. Then she bound the cut with a strip of cloth, leapt into a tree and waited.

She did not have to wait for long. “This way!”

The Sylvan Elves broke out of the brush. One knelt by the larger pool of blood. “The Orcs caught her, and she was wounded. She was lying here, and then it appears they took her somewhere.”

“South.” the other said. Tauriel now recognized him as the elder one.

“To Dol Guldur? But Orcs do not take prisoners. They will kill her and the king wants her alive. We have to-”

“We do not  _ have _ to do anything. It simply takes her off our hands. Why do we care if she lives or dies?” The elder shrugged and left.

“But?” The younger seemed to think that leaving one of their own to the enemy was not right. He could help her get Legolas out. Tauriel reached for the hidden pocket that held her arrows coated with a sedative.

“Sorry about this,” she whispered and fired the arrow. The elf collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

  
  
  
  


When Tauriel returned to the house, she laid the elf on the couch in the front room and began putting her things away while she waited for him to wake. She placed her food store in the pantry and folded her extra clothes. After tucking her clothes inside the armoire, Tauriel went back to the front room and continued cleaning until he woke.

He moaned and pressed his hand to his head. Tauriel laid the damp cloth down and went to stand in front of him. He opened his eyes and looked at her, blinking. “How?”

“Your eyes do not lie to you,” Tauriel said to him quietly, yet with power. “There is some information I need you to bring to the king. Can you do this?”

“But I thought you were-”

“Can you?”

“Yes, Lady Tauriel,” he answered, sitting up. “What do you want me to say?”

Tauriel sat cross legged on the hearth and recited, “Tell him that Orcs are massing in Dol Guldur. Tell him that Azog the Defiler leads them and that his son Legolas has been captured. Tell him that the longer he delays in freeing him, the weaker and closer to death his son grows. And tell him that I will help him, no matter what the cost may be. Lastly, warn him that the elf who has replaced me as Captain of the Elven Guard is a traitor and a spy,” She rose and walked halfway to the front door. “Can you do that?”

He nodded and followed her. “Of course, my lady.”

Tauriel stopped and huffed a sigh. “If you call me that one more time, I may be inclined to believe you are a spy as well. And, one last thing. I, this house, and everything between here and the Elven Halls, you never saw. I was never here.”

“Yes, Tauriel.”

She lead him to her old campsite and pointed the way back. “Remember. I was never here.”

He nodded and left. Tauriel watched him go with a sense of satisfaction. Thranduil would know what she needed him to know, Legolas would be rescued, and everything should return to normal. But Legolas had failed to work the traitor into his plans. How would the treasonous elf fit into the great scheme of things?


	4. Aid from Afar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!  
> Please, comments and kudos.

Legolas curled into a ball on the floor of his cell.  Every day was a cycle of the same. Azog would drag him out to the pinnacle and Sauron would ask him the same questions. He would refuse, and Azog would strike him over and over again, stopping only when the Dark Lord posed the question again. Then Azog would finally drag Legolas back to his cell and leave him there.

His only solace were Tauriel’s nightly visits. She never stayed for long, but she would bring a fresh jar of salve and maybe a bit of food. Sometimes she didn’t bring anything. On those nights, she would just sit by the window, reach through the bars as best she could, and lace her fingers through his. Those were the night of the very best sort. She didn’t bring any tangible things, but she offered her company. And that, in the cold, dark cell of an Orc stronghold, meant more than anything.

Azog’s heavy footsteps jerked Legolas out of his memories.  _ Here we go again. _ he thought, pushing himself up as best he could. The albino Orc unlocked the door and shoved it open on its squeaky hinges.

“Move along, scum!” he shouted, causing Legolas to wince at the sound. Didn’t Azog know how to speak quietly? But he managed to stand, and walk out. They hadn’t bound him lately, seeming to know that he just didn’t have the strength to escape. Tauriel had remarked on how pale he seemed. Was this place really changing him that much? He believed it.

“Come on! That the best you can do, you maggot?” Azog roared, then laughed. Other Orcs joined in. Oh, wonderful. They were going to try a different way to get him to talk. One that involved his honor, which Azog happened to know Elves took very seriously. They peppered him with taunts until they reached what appeared to be a guardroom. It was packed with Orcs.  _ This is going to be fun… _ he thought.

The week passed in a blur, and Legolas was glad of it. He didn’t want to remember it, only the passages and the layout of the rooms. But even those details had dissolved in his memory by the time Azog dragged him back. Legolas staggered to the stone ledge and collapsed against it. Tauriel had to get him out soon. He couldn’t take much more of this.

As usual, a gentle tapping on the bars announced her arrival. But this time, Legolas was too weak to sit up.

“What happened to you?” she gasped.

Legolas touched the ragged ends of his hair. “Azog. They changed tactics to appeal to my honor awhile ago, in the hope it will get me to talk.”

Tauriel wriggled one of her hands through the bars. He grabbed hold of her and pulled himself up. “But you’re not going to give in, right? You won’t have to stay here much longer, you know. I sent someone trustworthy to your father with the news that you were captured. Thranduil will send some elves for you soon.”

“Good. It is unknown to me how much more of this I can take.”

“I could try to get you out tonight.”

Legolas stared at her. Tonight? How? “You can do that?”

She sighed. “I’d need your help. And it won’t be easy.”

Legolas thought about what freedom meant. He wanted to run through the trees. To see his father again. “Tauriel, I have valuable information on the stronghold. I know where the Orcs are sparse and where they are often. I need to get that information to my father. But Sauron will order me brought to him at irregular times. It will cause too much unrest. Set up what you can tonight, and try tomorrow night.”

Tauriel let a little more light out of the lantern, allowing him to see her tear-stained face. “All right. But after that, I don’t care what you say, I will get you out.” Legolas gazed at her, knowing she meant what she said. “And anyway, here.” Tauriel pulled her hand out and pushed a cloth bundle through the bars. “It’s getting cold, you’ll need it.” Then she rose and left.

Legolas unfolded the blanket and watched her go. He would be warm, tonight at least.

Thudding arose from the hallway. Azog burst in, breaking the iron door to splinters against the rock in his obvious fury. “My master has lost his patience, elf. You’ll tell him where the Three are, or you’ll die.”

“Never.” Legolas answered, standing by the sheer force of his will.

Azog roared and swung his hand up, as if to land a blow. Legolas started to turn away from him, but excruciating pain laced up his side. He yelled, pressing his hand to the wound. He could feel the hilt of a knife protruding from between his ribs. His legs collapsed under him, and he grabbed for the stone ledge. He only managed to stay up for a few seconds before he slid to the floor, unconscious.

  
  
  
  
  


Tauriel ran faster, hoping to dispel the chill. Suddenly, the wind seemed different, colder somehow. Running downwind, she noticed something in the brush. Stepping cautiously, she lifted the lantern high. It was the elf she’d sent to Thranduil a week before, lying in the bushes. She knelt by him and felt his wrist. He was dead, with an arrow through his chest. A blue-green liquid contrasted with the dark fabric. Tauriel dipped her finger in it and tasted it. Papery. She spit it out quickly. It was elfbane, a deadly poison.

She shot up to standing, furious. The traitor was responsible. Well, she would just have to go to Thranduil herself. If he refused to listen to her, then she would free Legolas by herself and they would live in the cottage Legolas had built. But she hoped Thranduil would listen. Oh, she hoped.

As it turned out, Thranduil was in no mood to listen to her. The Sylvan Elves at the gate had seen her coming and, after she explained why she was there, cordially alerted the king to her presence. When they had led her in, however, Thranduil immediately showed hostility.

“Why are you here?” he asked, voice threatening.

“I bring news.” she answered, managing to keep her tone steady.

“Of what?”

Tauriel drew a deep breath. She knew what she needed to say.  _ Start with the smaller news. _ she reminded herself. “The Orc are massing in Dol Guldur again. Azog is alive.”

Thranduil chuckled. “And, why, Tauriel, should I believe you?”

Tauriel stared at him. “Why? You ask why?”

“You have said your little piece of news,” he answered in a dismissive tone. “Go.”

“No.”

He turned to her. “What? What did you say?”

“No. I will not leave. You will listen to what I am going to say. You will not turn away, not again.” Tauriel felt tears in her eyes and she fought to keep her voice steady.

Thranduil suddenly stepped forward, drew his sword, and pointed it at her chest. “You would dare speak to me like that?”he said in a half-whisper, which meant he was furious. “I have dealt with you for far too long. You will go now, and you will stay away. Or, I will kill you.”

Tauriel flicked her eyes to his blade, then back to his eyes, blinking rapidly to keep back the tears. “Wait. Please wait. For once in your life, just listen to me.”

Thranduil looked away, tears gathering in his eyes as well.

“I used to call you Ada, to admire you, want to be just like you. But you’ve changed so much. I know you suffered, but you have to get past it. I know you hurt because Ayana died, but you can’t hide behind it anymore. I know you suffered dragonfire, but you need to look past that.  _ You can’t run from your problems anymore. _ ”

Thranduil slowly lowered his sword. Silence hung for a while.

Then he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

_ What in all Middle-Earth?  _ She knew her face would betray her surprise.

“I said I'm sorry. I know I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. You were right. I need to stop hiding from my problems. But, why did you really come?”

“Legolas has been captured by Azog. He’s been there for three full weeks. We have to get him out before he dies. Athlen caused it. He is a traitor.”

Thranduil’s face hardened. “Athlen! I need all available archers here now!”

Tauriel looked at him in surprise. He winked.

The brown-haired elf, who had just stepped into the room, nodded and left.  _ His eyes make him look like the snake he is. _ Tauriel thought.

When Athlen returned, he said, “I am sorry, my lord. There are no available archers.”

Thranduil nodded and sheathed his sword with a flourish. “Tauriel, come with me. Athlen, stay here.”

Tauriel followed him. Once they were out of earshot, she whispered, “Why did you do that?”

“Testing your theory.” he answered. “I know that most of the Elven Guard is awake and waiting for my summons should I need them. And yet he said that they were not available. He also knows what you came for. So, because he lied about that in these circumstances, I know he is a traitor.”

Tauriel nodded.

When they came to the gate, most of the Sylvan Elves were standing there. Some were fingering their arrows, some stringing and restringing their bows. All were tense. One of them looked up and leapt to his feet.

“My lord Thranduil! I did not look to see you here. Athlen told us that we would be needed, but not when. What has happened?”

“Athlen is a traitor.” Thranduil replied. “I need you right now. There is someone else you will be under the command of.”

Tauriel walked out of the shadows behind Thranduil. All the elves leapt to their feet. “We are going to Dol Guldur.” Tauriel said. “I need you all on high alert. That place is swarming with Orcs. I know where we need to go, and I know someone who knows the layout of the passages to get us there. If you find any lone Orcs, or small groups that can’t raise an alarm, you are welcome to kill them. But if you run into a large group, stay hidden. We don’t want them to know we were there until tomorrow.”

“Where, precisely, are we going?” Thranduil asked.

“Follow me.”


	5. Dol Guldur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger at the end of this one.
> 
> Comment? Kudos?

The night was silent, save for the rustle of the leaves in the slight breeze.

Tauriel balanced carefully in one of the nearly bare trees. The fortress of Dol Guldur loomed before her. She knew Thranduil and the other elves were having trouble seeing in the low light of the new moon, but she could easily make out every sentry posted along the walls.

“What can you see?” Thranduil hissed from below her.

“There are sentries posted every three fathoms. They might be expecting us. I can see that the entrance to the tunnel way is still unguarded on the outside. It is never guarded on the inside of the fortress, according to Legolas. We make our move soon.”

“Agreed.”

An orc-horn blared from inside the fortress. Tauriel leapt down from the tree. “That signals the watch change.” she whispered. “We move now.”

She moved silently along the ground, Thranduil and five of the other elves following. As she had thought, the tunnel door was unguarded. She soundlessly picked the lock and swung it open.

“This way.” Tauriel murmured. Thranduil nodded. Stairs sloped down, ending in a solid door that opened to a wide corridor lined with torches. Tauriel trotted down the steps and pushed the door open.

Azog stood in front of her, surrounded by a battalion or more Orcs.

Tauriel fell back several steps, stunned. How?! How had Azog known?

“What is it?” Thranduil whispered.

“Azog, and several other Orcs.”

Thranduil expression hardened. “Let them come. I will kill them.”

Tauriel drew her daggers, facing Azog again. “If you should choose to stand between me and my kin, I will kill you.” she said, echoing the challenge Dáin Ironfoot had used in the battle. She hadn’t been there, but Thranduil had recounted the tale to her. 

Azog laughed. “You can try, elf. You won’t succeed.”

Tauriel snorted. She drew her old sword Thranduil had recovered for her. Azog roared and brandished his own weapon.

The albino Orc initiated the fight. He swung for Tauriel’s head and she countered. To her immense surprise, he shoved her back, hard. Thranduil caught her and set her on her feet again. “I wouldn’t worry.” he hissed in her ear. “You haven’t fought with a blade since Gundabad.”

Tauriel parried and struck as instinct told her. The twang of bowstrings told her that the other elves were adding supporting fire to her fight. Encouraged by their support, she pressed herself more. It became a mistake. Azog noticed the change and tricked her into making a terribly embarrassing mistake. She swung for the Orc, but her dodged her and swung. She felt his sword collide with her neck and she lost consciousness.

  
  
  
  


A hand on her shoulder woke her. Tauriel blinked, eventually clearing her vision enough to make out Thranduil bending over her. She moaned and reached back to where Azog had struck her. A shallow cut on the back of her neck was cloaked in blood. “What happened?” she gasped.

Thranduil sighed. “Someone warned Azog we were there and told him where to find us. I don’t know who, and I don’t why.”

Her vision had cleared fully by now. She was lying in a stone cell similar to the one she had seen Legolas in. She and Thranduil were the only ones in that cell, but she could see the five other Sylvan Elves in the cell across from them. The elvenking had chained to the wall, a reality for which he showed smouldering resentment. She was loose; but she attributed that to the fact she had been unconscious. 

Azog had caught them. How. No one had known of their plan. No one. Partly because she hadn’t had a plan until they arrived. Kíli certainly hadn’t known and he wouldn’t tell Azog anything. Athlen? Possibly, but no elf in his right mind would obey orders from an Orc, no less Azog the Defiler. It was not in their blood.

A yell that could only belong to one person burst from the hall. Tauriel heard severals thuds and clangs that told her someone had just killed all the  _ very alert _ Orcs standing guard. She heard a  _ clank _ from the keyhole and the door swung open. There, shaking Orc-blood out of his hair, was Kíli.

“Returning the favor!” he shouted, dumping a bundle and nodding toward Thranduil. “I’ll get you out in a moment.” He slipped out of sight and was apparently fending off some other Orcs to give them time.

Tauriel shook her head and stood. Kíli was irrepressible! But she tugged open the ties of the bundle anyway. Her daggers, Thranduil’s swords, and the bows and quivers belonging to the Sylvan Elves who had come with the lay inside. Kíli had rescued them, recovered their weapons, and was now making sure they had enough time to escape. But what had he meant ‘returning the favor’? Oh, well. She couldn’t remember and it was not worth the time at the moment to do so.

She tucked her daggers back in her hair. It was good to have them back. Running her hands over the bows, she noted they were still in good condition, as were Thranduil swords. Good.

Kíli finished the Orcs, and, true to his word, made quick work of the chains. He tossed Tauriel the keys and said, “Free your friends. I’ll meet you outside if I get through this.”

She watched him leave, utterly stunned. But she shrugged and handed Thranduil his swords and the keys. “Free the other elves. I’m going to look for Legolas. I’ll call you when I find him.”

Stepping over Orc bodies, she made her way to Legolas’s cell, the last one on the right she believed it be.

The iron door was gone, smashed to bits on the stone.

She stepped back in surprise. Something was wrong. She ran into the tiny stone room. The floor was slick with blood. She slipped some, but regained her balance. Legolas lay on his side by the far wall of the room, the cropped ends of his blond hair hanging around his face. The hilt of a knife protruded from his side. Tauriel gasped, hand flying to her mouth.

“Legolas?” she whispered, kneeling by him. He didn’t answer. She gently took his hand and felt the inside of his wrist. There was a faint flutter against her fingers. Another. He was alive. Being as gentle as she could, Tauriel took him into her arms and stood. His head lolled against her shoulder.

“Tauriel, is something wrong?” Thranduil asked.

“We have to hurry.” she answered, closing her eyes for a moment. He nodded. She turned, and Thranduil's eyes went wide.

“What happened?” he breathed.

“ _ Azog _ happened.” Tauriel answered, trying every trick she knew to contain her blazing fury. “But we need to move fast. He’s lost too much blood. He could die soon.”

Thranduil nodded. He drew his swords again and stood in the corridor, watching for any Orcs that Azog had left as backup. Tauriel walked out behind him and stepped carefully up the stone steps. Once he was sure there were no others, Thranduil followed.

When they were outside in the cool night air again, Tauriel stopped and laid Legolas down. She placed two fingers of the inside of his wrist again. She couldn’t feel anything, so she pressed harder. It was still there, but it was slower and fainter. He was dying.

Then it hit her. If his pulse had slowed this much in less then two minutes, he would never survive long enough for them to make it to the house. And the Elven Halls were even farther. Tauriel drew a shuddering breath. No. He could not die, not after all he’d been through.

“Thranduil?” she whispered in a choked tone.

“What is it?” he asked, kneeling beside her and laying his arm around her shoulders.

Tauriel felt tears creeping down her face. “We were too late. He’s going to die. There is nothing that can save him now. I-I failed him.” She collapsed against Thranduil’s chest and wept.

“Maybe I can.” A loud, rumbling voice came from behind them. It belied enormous power, but not malevolent power, as she had felt when she fought Sauron. It was kind, wanting to help. There was also great sorrow in it, as if it really were too late.

Tauriel rose and turned. A huge dragon stood behind her.


	6. ...and Back Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up here. There will be a sequel! More notes at the end.

Its body was shaped much the same as Smaug’s, though much smaller, whom she had seen destroying Lake-town a few months before. But its scales were golden, not a dull brownish gray. She’d read that all dragon’s scales were that color, so something was off.

“I will not harm you, elf. You showed a weakness in the defenses and allowed me to escape. You saved my life. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, awed that the dragon had not just killed them and was truly trying to help them. Reaching inside the neckline of her tunic, she fingered the dragonfire scar on her chest she’d earned the last time she had directly faced a dragon.”

“I owe you a life-debt.” it answered. “Unlike the other races, a dragon is forever bound to serve, in whatever way they can, the one who saves their life and it can never be paid in full. The only way they may be released from this is if that being says that they may go free. Thusly, I will serve you in what ways I can.”

Tauriel turned and knelt by Legolas again. “Can you save him?”

The dragon bent his head and sniffed. “I do not scent death. I believe I can, if you will trust me enough to help.”

Tauriel looked at Thranduil. There were tears coursing down the elven-king’s normally indifferent face. He nodded.

“Help in whatever way you can to save him.”

The dragon nodded and gently grasped Legolas’s limp body in one paw, careful to position the knife in between two of his talons so he would not cause Legolas any more pain. “Ride on my back. It will be faster then running.” he told her.

Tauriel obeyed and climbed onto the dragon’s broad back. “Fly your fastest, dragon.”

The dragon launched into the air and sped over Greenwood so fast, the forest was a blur. Tauriel had to duck several times as arrows flew over her head, narrowly missing her. _The other elves are not very happy about our sudden appearance._ she calculated.

No sooner had she thought this, then the dragon spread out its wings and landed sharply on his hind legs in front of the house. He reached back with his head, gently picked Tauriel up with his teeth by the back of her tunic, and deposited her on the ground. She ran to Legolas, whom the dragon had also set on the dew-laden grass, and felt his wrist again. “He is yet alive.” she whispered in relief and sat back on her heels.

The dragon settled onto the ground. “I may be able to slow his death so you have enough time in which to save him, if you will let me. And I realized I have not told you my name. I am called Jolden by others, though to my fellow dragons I am known by a different name I cannot tell you.”

“Well then, Jolden.” Tauriel said. “Do what you can.”

Jolden bent down and blew a stream of white mist over Legolas. “That should do it.”

Tauriel walked over to the dragon and laid her hand on his snout. “Thank you for saving him, dragon.”

Jolden gave her a draconic smile. “I would do it again, had I need to.”

Tauriel nodded and picked Legolas up again. She walked carefully into the house and laid him on the loveseat in the front room. Then she ran for a candle and some clean cloths.

When she returned, she set the candle beside her on the floor and tucked one of the cloths around the knife. She had one try at this. Jerking the knife out a quickly as she could, Tauriel shoved the cloth over the wound to stop the blood. She tossed the knife to the side and started packing her salve around the wound. She used a whole jar of the stuff. As she was wrapping the other cloths around the wound, Thranduil entered, breathing hard.

“Is he alright?”

“Yes.” Tauriel answered. “But he will need to rest, and that wound is going to leave a nasty scar. But he’ll live.”

Thranduil smiled and sat carefully beside his son. “Good.”

They sat in silence, until Thranduil asked, “I do not completely understand this. I knew you and Legolas were friends, but-”

“You are referring to Kíli?” she answered, rather reluctant to answer the question.

“Yes. Would you mind telling why you seem to have, well, left him behind so suddenly?”

Tauriel lowered her head. The memory of the dwarf’s death was quite fresh in her mind. “We, we were talking, a few nights after we caught them, and I brought up, by accident, what you’d told me, that Legolas has feelings for me. I thought Kíli would be angry, but he simply said that he wanted me to be happy. He told me that he wasn’t sure I would be happy with him, and that I was best off with one of my own. I gave a lot of thought to what he said, and came to the conclusion that he was saying that, well, I’m really not sure what he meant.”

Thranduil smiled. “He meant that he thought you would be happier with Legolas than with him, because he was mortal. He only wanted you to be happy, even if was not with him.”

She nodded. “I miss him.”

“It hurts to lose someone you care for.” he answered. Tauriel knew he spoke from his own experiences.

Tauriel rose and beckoned to him, eager to change the subject. “Would you mind lighting the hall candles so I can see to take Legolas down the hall to bed?”

Thranduil took the candle and rose, giving her a tender smile. Tauriel gently took Legolas in her arms again and followed Thranduil down the hall. She tucked him into bed and stroked the side of his face. “Sleep.” she whispered. “Sleep, and do not wake until the morn.”

A gentle snort and the smell of smoke caused her to look out the open window. Jolden’s head lay outside.

“I suppose you wonder what happened to the pale Orc and the one-eyed Orc.” the dragon asked.

Tauriel nodded. “Yes. I want to keep an eye on them if they ever attempt something like this again.”

Jolden chuckled. “ That won’t be necessary. I burnt them to ashes and buried them in stone when I broke out. They are not able to trouble you again. If other Orcs try the same, they will meet that selfsame fate. For as I said, I am bound by the strongest of magic to serve you and your kin.”

Tauriel giggled at the thought of Orcs attacking her only to be burnt alive. “But how did they know we were there in the first place? No one else knew.”

“That, I, do not know.  They simply left, leaving the keys behind. A dwarf youngling came and I asked him to unchain me. He was hesitant, but he did so. Then I gave him the keys and pointed him in the way the Orcs had gone. He thanked me and left. I could tell he was a youngster of good breeding. Do you know him?”

“Yes. His name was Kíli.” she replied, wiping an escaping tear from her eye. “The Orcs got to him before we did. And there won’t be any healer to save him this time.”

“I am sorry.”

“Jolden? I have one more question.”

“Yes, elfling?”

“Why are you being so kind to us when every other dragon the Eldar has encountered has tried to burn them?

Jolden sighed. “Long ago, the dragons heard of the trouble the Black One, or Morgoth as you name him, was causing the Valar. We flew north from the warm southern lands of our home, under command of our queen, Ehabanya, and her Rider, Ëmëla, to assist them. But the Red One found us first. He took many of our kin prisoner and killed thousands of others. Queen Ehabanya and her wing of Aelepha dragons, and few others, escaped both trap and sword. They fled south to the eyries we had come from, waiting until they were strong enough to regain their lost.

“I, a young and inexperienced hatchling at the time, was taken by the Red One. I was forced to watch as so many of my kin were subdued by darkness and twisted to serve it. It was too easy for _him_. He would threaten a dragon’s soulmate until the dragon agreed to serve him. Then once oaths were sworn, the Black One would kill them anyway. The pure wrenching of the soul would have been enough to make any lose themselves, even without sorcery. Those without soulmates, he tortured their Riders.”

Tauriel tilted her head in confusion. “Riders?”

“The Dragon Riders. Some were of elfkind, some were dwarves, but most were of the Elder Kindred, about whom I will not explain. They were bonded with the dragons, mind and soul. Each knew the other so well that if one was down, the other could fight with their bonded partner’s body. But the Black One knew this, and he knew that each feels the other’s pain. So, in ill-treating the Rider, the dragon could not bear the suffering their Rider was enduring. They pledged themselves to the Black One.

“Many of the first were the wingless ones. They were weaker in resolve and so easier to twist to evil designs. I, the queen’s son, and the others blessed with wings were able to resist long enough to see what he meant to do. We saw as Glaurung, he was named by the dark ones, destroyed the elven city of Gondolin.

“The prince and I were eventually taken to the fortress you found me in. The prince escaped with my assistance, and since, I have heard their reason for capturing us was to ensure that Middle-earth would not find allies in the Dragonkins. Even the Black One feared our fire. I was told later that my winged brothers had been overcome by darkness, meaning the release of the flying dragons. One such was my nest-sire, whom the dark one named Smaug. I know you have seen him, and you should know that this son is nothing like his father. But the greatest difference is he chose to serve the Black One. He was not forced. 

“I gave up hope after the attack of Erebor. It had been too many years since our queen had fled, too many ages since any rumor of our blood-enemy. I began to think there were none with the blood of honor in them. But, meeting you changed that. I know now that there are those with strength left to fight.”

Tauriel smiled at the dragon’s high praise. “So Morgoth did not make the dragons?”

“No. When he betrayed the Valar, he lost all ability to create. He could only twist and destroy. But he did not twist the dragons as much as he did the elves. He only twisted their minds, not bodies.”

Looking up, Tauriel saw Thranduil had left. She found him on the couch, sound asleep. _He’s had a long night._ she thought as she gently worked the crown off his head and set it to the side. _It is understandable._ Tauriel carefully laid a blanket over him and left, blowing out the candles as she went.

Sitting by Legolas again, she found herself drifting into sleep. She laid her head on the pillow beside his, and fell asleep, the thought frozen in her mind that everything was going to be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who know better than I do about how the dragons were made by Morgoth than I do, sorry. It's kinda necessary to the plot later.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will all make sense later.

Galadriel watched the younger elf carefully before closing the seeing window. She was safe and well. Fingering the pendant that normally lay hidden under the fabric of her dress, she recalled all the reasons why she and Celeborn had done what they did. And why they hadn’t told anyone about their second daughter. _It was for Iltaurille’s own safety._ she thought. _So Sauron wouldn’t find her._

But in spite of it, she still missed her. What mother would not? But the threat of Sauron was too great. Eventually he’d find her, but she was safe for now. And the draja Jolden would put her life before his own. In the protection of an Alepha, she would be safe.

But the intertwined dragon burned on her right palm, so often hidden by a cloaking spell. It would be a matter of time before Iltaurielle knew who she really was.

 

Who they really were.


End file.
